A Flash and a Bang
by Sithchild
Summary: For fifteen years, Camp Half-Blood has flourished and prospered. New demigods come every day. However, kids are beginning to disappear - right from their own cabins. No one knows who, no one knows how. Hence, this quest.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **This takes place about 15 years after the original series. I've disregarded the whole Camp Jupiter thing mainly cause it makes it more confusing :P Enjoy!

**Also, some background: **This chapter is more like chapter zero, in which I introduce the protagonist and whatnot. The real stuff doesn't start until later.

Chapter One : Irina

The lake was calm and peaceful under the hot sun. Not a single puffy cloud dared to show itself in the sea of azure blue sky. Everyone – demigods, nymphs, satyrs, even some of the automatons – was enjoying the day, including Irina, who carefully painted her nails in a shady spot near the lake. She'd chosen a light spring green, and just loved the color. It almost perfectly matched the leaves of the tree she was sitting under.

Shouts came from the lake. Irina glanced up to see the fin of a shark coasting through the water. She paid no attention. It was probably just another child of Palaemon pranking some poor unsuspecting demigod. Sure enough, when she looked back up again, Toby Seaborne was getting slapped by a screaming Alyssa Nickerson. He didn't look at all miffed; in fact he was laughing hysterically, almost collapsing back into the water. Irina grinned. She didn't know Toby very well, but his reputation for being a joker made people wonder if he were a child of Hermes instead of Palaemon.

Looking back out over the water, she wondered why she wasn't the one giving Toby the slap he deserved. Why she wasn't wearing her swimsuit – the cute purple one her mother had sent – and wading in until her legs were numb. Alyssa Nickerson was doing exactly that, and despite her shark scare (oh, people were going to tease her about that for a long time) she looked like she was having a great time. Meanwhile Irina sat here alone, off the shore, doing a solitary activity that made her seem unapproachable. She capped the nail polish and slipped it in her pocket. Originally, she was going to put a sparkly coat on top of the green, but decided that was going to have to wait until later.

She made her way to a group of kids all sitting together. They appeared to be from different cabins. As casually as she could, she sat down near them and tried to look friendly.

It worked. One of the kids, a lean dark-haired boy, waved for her to move closer. Irina smiled shyly and repositioned herself near him. "We've been wondering when you were going to come say hi," he said. Irina nearly fainted with pleasure. "I'm Aaron. And you are?"

"Irina," she said. Doubts started to leak in: what if Aaron was being nice to her on a dare? What if he was talking to her out of pity for her pathetic state?

"Nice to meet you, Irina," Aaron said, warmly shaking her hand. "What cabin are you in?"

"Hm?" she said, startled. His voice had interrupted her reverie. "Oh, sorry. I'm a child of Morpheus. You?"

"Athena." He grinned. Irina found herself trying to control her breathing. Oh, that smile…it send a small shiver up her spine in the best possible way. "So you're one of the dreamers, huh?"

"Uh, sure," she said. _Now he thinks I'm stupid. _

"Tell me, then." Aaron leaned in closer. "What was my dream last night?"

Irina stared deep into his stormy gray eyes. Well, she wasn't really looking _at_ them. She was looking beyond them, deep into his soul. She'd had that ability since she was ten. It reminded her of playing "Guess the Dream" with her mom back in Seattle. An image came, followed by another, then another. The images connected to form a dreamscape. Irina explored the dreamscape curiously, fascinated by what she saw.

It was Aaron, sitting in front of a desk, with identical thick books stacked in piles around him. Irina knew she was in a bookstore. A long line trailed out the door and around the street to meet Aaron Baylor, famous author of – she glanced at the book title – _Dystopia. _According to the book jacket, the _New York Times _had reviewed it as "one of the best classic novels American literature has seen in a long time." The _Oregonian _called it "a timeless classic of love, loss, and the will to go on; perfect for the aspiring young adult reader." A pretty girl stood in the background, holding two steaming Starbucks cups. One of them was obviously meant for Aaron. Irina couldn't get a good look at the girl's face, but noticed that they both owned the same pair of brown suede boots. _You get them at Bloomie's? _ she wanted to ask.

Legions of fans poured through the bookstore, all wanting to get an exclusive signed copy of _Dystopia_. A few teenage girls giggled wildly as Aaron signed each of their cover pages. He never seemed to wear out or get tired. He enjoyed every second, every fan that came to meet him. Irina admired his authentic smile and enthusiasm that greeted people as they approached the desk. She longed to get in line, but that would only disrupt the dream. She'd seen enough, anyway.

Slipping out of the dreamscape, Aaron's face materialized in front of her – the same guy as in the dream, but younger and more sporty-looking. The man in the dream was older, had glasses, gauges, and spiked-up hair, all while wearing a button-down shirt, dark blue jeans, nice shoes, and a black vest. Some guys could pull it off, others couldn't. Aaron was in the "could" category.

"Whoa," he said. "Did you really see it? I thought it was just a rumor."

Irina smiled. "Be thankful you're not the type to dream of scantily clad blondes."

He laughed. It was a nervous laugh. "Um, yeah. I prefer redheads anyway."

Fingering a piece of her scarlet hair, Irina looked down at the ground and tried to hide the smile breaking across her face. She couldn't remember the last time someone had so openly flirted with her – if there was even something to remember. She was going to say something, but just as she opened her mouth, the dinner bell sounded. "Oh," was what came out. "Well, I guess it's time for dinner."

_Oh, good, Irina. Now he thinks you're the presiding Captain Obvious. _

"Seems like it," he said. "Let's go." He got up first and offered her his hand. It was sandy, but Irina didn't care, not at all. She was going to try not to let him notice that she didn't plan on letting go of his hand, but then she heard a voice behind her: "Irina!"

She sighed. It was her younger brother Jake, almost ten years old and the only other occupant of the Morpheus cabin. He was her brother on both sides, too – they shared the same mother as well as Morpheus for a father. "Hey, Jake," she said. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he said. "Aren't you going to walk with me?"

"Um…" she said, trailing off. She gave Aaron a meaningful look. He seemed to understand. Smiling, he waved goodbye and ran to catch up with his siblings. "Well, sure. I guess."

"You don't sound very happy," Jake remarked.

For an almost-ten-year-old, her brother was very perceptive. "I'm fine, Jakey," she said. He squirmed at the nickname, but didn't correct her. "How was your day?"

Jake brightened. "Oh, it was awesome! Nelson and I went down to the armory cause Chiron said I could use a new shield, and then we saw these huge guys working down there – they're Hephaestus' kids, right?" Irina nodded. "Yeah, anyway, so we went and they'll have my shield ready next week."

"And? C'mon, Jake, you didn't stand around in the armory all day, did you?"

"Nope," he said proudly. Irina began to worry. Whenever Jake was proud of something, it was her place to worry.

"Then…what did you do?"

All the way to the dining pavilion, Jake described his daily adventures in rapid detail. He barely noticed when his big sister put her arm around him and gave him that close side hug that only siblings can share.

That night in the cabin Irina couldn't sleep. Usually it came easy for her, being the child of Morpheus and all. She crept outside and sat on the small patio steps. Luckily, she was wearing her cute fuzzy blue pajamas, which were decorated with puffy clouds. Her Converse sat next to her on the porch. The night was dark and still, though she knew that somewhere out there the children of Hades and Thanatos and all the other 'darker' gods were having a good time.

After sitting out there for a while, she decided to take a walk. Maybe when she got back she'd be so tired she'd collapse into bed and go straight to sleep.

She laced up her Converse and put on a hoodie. Now that it was March, it wasn't as cold as it had been, but it was no tropical paradise either. She brought her stuffed giraffe (cleverly named "Raffy") along with her. Raffy was one of the few items she owned that wasn't enchanted or had some other use. He was just a plain old stuffed giraffe, faded a little, but otherwise okay.

Not sure of where to go, Irina let her feet take her all around the camp. She spent an hour weaving through the cabins alone. The lights were off in all of them, but it was hard to miss the pulsating music coming from Nyx's cabin. Oh yeah, there was a party all right. Through the window a small disco ball – the kind with colored lights, not the silver mirrored ones – cast dim light on the tree outside. Now Irina wanted a disco ball. She made a mental note to ask her mother to send her one.

Continuing through the night, she stopped at the dining pavilion and sat at her empty table. She couldn't stay still much longer, so she crept down to the campfire. Of course, the enchanted fire had long been extinguished, but the scent of wood smoke lasted the entire night. Irina breathed in deeply and smiled. Wood smoke, vanilla and strawberries: three smells she would never get sick of. Thank the gods she had discovered Herbal Essences' line of fruit-scented products, which made strawberry shampoo and conditioner that supposedly helped 'smooth' thick hair to make it 'sleek and shiny'. Irina had never noticed a difference in her hair, but the stuff smelled awesome.

It had to be at least two in the morning by the time Irina finally headed back to her cabin. Jake was snoozing peacefully in his bed. Since their cabin was so small, they could have queen-size beds. Both Freitag children slept sprawled across the entire mattress, one foot hanging off the side, belly-down, the pillow usually pushed off to the side. Irina giggled to herself when she saw the resemblance.

A pang of homesickness – was it? Really? – hit her hard, right in the pit of her stomach. That was strange. She'd been here for two and a half months, ever since she'd come back from winter break in Seattle. It was only eleven back home. Maybe she could send her mom an Iris-message. No way would Lisa Freitag be caught in bed at such an early hour.

Taking a golden drachma from the pouch in her nightstand drawer, Irina once again snuck out of her cabin and made her way down to the beach. The waves of the Long Island Sound crashed in the darkness, but they didn't scare her.

Then she remembered – _stupid, you need light _and_ mist to make a rainbow! _

Minutes later she returned with a flashlight. It wasn't very powerful, but it would work for the time being.

Irina had to wade knee-deep in the freezing water before her beam caught any mist. Finally, a tiny shimmering rainbow appeared, and she quickly threw in her drachma, muttering "O Iris, accept my offering. Show me Lisa Freitag at 341 Washington Ave, Apartment B9, Seattle, Washington."

In the mist, she could barely make out her mom sitting in bed, reading a book. For a moment she was so stunned she didn't know what to do. "Mom!" she shrieked, hoping to be heard over the roar of the waves.

A completely startled Lisa nearly fell off the bed. "Irina! Babe, what are you doing? Are you okay? How's Jake? Are you hurt, are you bleeding?"

"Mom, I'm fine, Jake's fine," Irina said. "I just…missed you. I guess."

"Oh." Lisa's warm smile – so like Jake's – spread across her face. "Oh, baby, you scared me! For a second I thought you were your dad."

Irina's eyebrows shot up. "Really? I thought he was blond." On the occasions she'd seen her father, Morpheus, he'd had sandy blond hair and rich mocha-colored eyes that she'd inherited, though she doubted they shimmered like his.

"Sure, he is now," Lisa said. "But back in 1996…well, hon, you obviously didn't get my hair, so guess whose you got?"

"He had hair like this?" Irina asked. She couldn't imagine him with her dark scarlet hair. In fact, just picturing it wanted to make her giggle.

"Yeah! You forget, babe, I thought he was one hardcore rocker. And all the hardcore rockers had dark red hair, except his was real, not out of a dye bottle."

"I thought he was some rich posh guy that hired your band for a party."

"90's was grunge. Even rich posh guys had to be alternative."

"I guess," Irina said with a sigh. "You must have loved the 90's."

"You bet!" Lisa leaned back into the pillows and propped one foot up on her knee. "All the cool bands finally came. Well, except for the cool ones that were already out. Classic rock. This was the decade of punk. And guess what kind of band I had?"

"Punk," Irina said.

"That's right. So we got pretty famous – you probably don't remember this, but we opened for Bon Jovi on some USA tours. We wouldn't go overseas, though, cause you were so little." Lisa smiled as though she still cradled the memory. "Your dad, though…well, he was – and still is – a great guy. Don't get too mad at him, okay?"

"I'm not mad," Irina instinctively replied.

Lisa grinned wryly. "If you say so. Look, baby girl, I hate to break this off, but I gotta get up early tomorrow."

"Wait…you have an actual wake-up-in-the-morning job now?"

Beaming widely, Lisa sat cross-legged in front of the misty screen. A wave of water lapped up to Irina's torso, which made her legs completely numb. "Sure I do. I'll tell you about it some other time, all right, hon?"

Irina smiled. The pride she felt for her mom expanded her heart by two full sizes. "Gotcha, Mom. Night."

"Love you, baby."

"Love you too."

With a wave of her hand, the connection was broken. All that was left was a frozen girl with scarlet hair shivering in the Long Island sound.


	2. Chapter 2

"I, Amy, give you permission to enter the camp!" the young satyr bellowed, dragging Savannah by the wrist. Amy's fingernails cut into her skin, which, thanks to years of sun exposure, was tan and tough. She followed Amy somewhat reluctantly to a large multi-story house. That was unusual for a camp.

Actually, there were a lot of things that were unusual for a camp here. First was the dragon. Savannah wanted to ask, but she was so tired the words wouldn't form. Maybe she was dreaming. She was dreaming that she and her neighbor Amy had fought off three – what were they called? Some kind of vampire woman with weird legs – in the school cafeteria. She was dreaming that Amy's feet were actually hooves that could move maniacally fast, making Savannah run twice as hard to catch up. And she was dreaming that she was seeing a magical camp with a sleeping dragon and cabins that all seemed to be different.

Inside the large house, Amy ran and ran with Savannah in tow until they found a large white stallion. Well, part stallion, part person – a centaur. Savannah had read about them in mythology books. The centaur was well-groomed and white as the moon's reflection.

"I've got another, Chiron," Amy said, bowing her head slightly in respect. Savannah collapsed in the nearest chair. It was a spindly wood thing with no cushion – that was the only thing in the room that really said _camp_ – but it was good enough for her tired feet. However, she found that she couldn't close her eyes. It must have been a rule of dreams: no sleeping.

"Hmm," the centaur – Chiron? – said. "Where is she from?"

"Eldridge, Georgia."

"I can't say I've heard of it," he said. "Perhaps a map?"

"Oh – of course." Amy cleared her throat. She was nervous, Savannah could tell. "It's in, um, the northeast area of the state. The only town around for fifty miles in all directions. Very small and non-corporate."

"Not a single big business in the whole town," Savannah mumbled sleepily, eyes almost closed. "But we got some real good peaches."

"Yeah, exactly," Amy said. It was apparent to everyone that she was still a little nervous. Suddenly she whipped a Coke can from her pocket and began to devour it, the whole can gone in just three bites. That's when Savannah began to think she'd been drugged. Eating soda cans? Who _did_ that?

Savannah lifted her head long enough to say. "Amy? What on _earth_ are you doing?"

"Um – yeah, about that." She turned to Chiron. "I haven't explained everything to her yet."

"So she might have a few questions, yes?" the centaur replied. He inclined his head at Savannah. "You are free to ask as many as you like, though I cannot promise that the answers will be joyous to hear."

"Oh, okay," Savannah said. "First of all, am I dreaming?"

Chiron laughed. "No, child. I'm afraid not."

"Then – what is this?" Savannah gestured around the room. "I mean, oh my goodness, I don't want to be rude, sir, but…what are you?" She glanced at Amy's hooves and furry legs. "And you too! Oh gosh, I know that sounds so mean, I promise I don't mean to be."

"It's all right," Chiron said. "I am a centaur. Amy is a satyr. Have you perhaps taken a mythology class before, Savannah?"

"We had a mythology unit in my Ancient World History class," Savannah replied, her words jolting and disconnected. Her mind was ready to shut down, but she had to plow through it. "I know what a centaur is. They're the horse guys."

With a discreet look downward, Chiron chuckled. "'The horse guys.' I suppose that would sum up my relatives and I, in a literal way of speaking. My name frequently populates history books, though I don't expect that history is the most attentive subject."

"Chiron," Savannah said. The name didn't stir up a single thought. "Nope, sorry…I know that's awful rude of me, not remembering you, but history isn't really my best subject." As she became more and more tired, her Southern accent thickened in her throat. _Like it wasn't already obvious enough that I'm a hick_, she thought. _Too bad I wasn't wearing my cowboy boots and chaps. Then we'd have a country-style party, and I'd ride that pony around the place again and again. _It was hard to look at Chiron in her sleepy state and picture him as both horse and man, not two separate entities. "And what's a satyr?"

"I have trained many heroes, Savannah. More specifically, the children of the gods."

"The gods?"

"The Greek gods of Olympus. They exist, Savannah. I realize this is quite shocking – "

Before she could respond, a sandy-haired boy burst into the room. He was decked out in what Savannah recognized from multiple museum trips with her art-happy dad to be full Greek battle armor. She could even read the inscriptions on the side. "What on earth – "

"If you want to get zapped three feet in the air, go ahead, touch it," the boy said. Savannah quickly recoiled. She felt like she was about to cry. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Jack is a child of Hecate, goddess of magic," Chiron explained. "Their armor is decorated with dangerous enchantments only they can withstand."

"Right," Savannah said, pretending to understand.

"Sorry, Chiron," Jack said. "But we've got a huge problem. Mega-huge. Like, Olympus-sized huge."

Chiron's face grew concerned. "What is it?"

"It's Aléjandra. She's gone." Jack put a hand to his face. Whether it was to brace a headache or wipe tears away, Savannah didn't know. "We've searched the entire camp and the town. Nothing." His voice broke on the last word. Instantly, understanding dawned. This missing Aléjandra had to have been close to Jack. Savannah reached out to place a hand on his armor-free wrist.

"Oh, you poor thing," she said. She didn't know the girl, and was ready to weep if news came of her death. "I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"You?" he said, skeptical. "Um…well, maybe Chiron should finish explaining. You still don't know why you're here, do you?"

"Not really," she admitted. His rudeness stung, but she pushed it back. The guy was missing his girlfriend, after all, and if that wasn't an excuse to be an ass she didn't know what was.

"Then no, but…thanks. Really." He offered a half smile. "Sorry, I'm just…it's been a bad day."

Chiron's eyes had been closed during the entire exchange. His face was solemn and determined. "Were there witnesses? Her sister, perhaps?"

"Terésa said she didn't see anything," he said. "Except that the cabin lit up for a second and there was a giant bang, like a sound wave or something. No one can explain it. Forrest said it sounded like Jango Fett's bombs from the asteroid chase scene, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"Hmm," Chiron pondered, deep in thought. "And we're certain it wasn't a prank? I hear the Apollo cabin have been preparing extensively for the Capture the Flag game tomorrow."

"They've all got alibis," Jack said sadly. "Everyone does, even the nymphs and satyrs."

"I'm offended," Amy muttered. "We satyrs would never hurt demigod children."

"I know, Amy," Chiron said. "I have full confidence that it was no one at this camp. Which leaves me to wonder…well, Jack, we'll discuss this at length shortly. Put all cabins on high security alert. Meet with the counselors – but stay within sight of your cabin at all times. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jack replied. His arm brace connected with his breastplate as he scratched an itch on his shoulder. Sparks flew in all directions, as though a streaming firework were welded to the bronze metal. Jack didn't appear shocked in the least, when the sparks settled down, Savannah realized that to her astonishment she wasn't hurt. In fact, no one was. "I had to make those charms harmless, I knock them together too often," Jack explained before jogging out the door.

As Chiron went on to explain the history of the Greek gods and how they were currently stationed above New York City, and were in fact very much real, Savannah's eyelids stopped drooping. She sat up straighter in her chair. She pinched herself multiple times, telling herself she was dreaming. It was only when Chiron knelt to her height and said, "I'm sorry, child. But this is no dream," that she stopped.

And promptly began to cry.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cried. She wasn't sure why she was crying. Maybe her period was on its way. Maybe it was shock. Amy awkwardly patted her shoulder as she sobbed, unsure of what to do next.

"I must meet with the counselors to discuss this present crisis," Chiron said, eyes sympathetic but firm. "Amy will take you to the Hermes cabin. Until you are claimed by your godly parent, that is where you will stay. Though Percy's deal should assure that you'll be in your own cabin by sundown tomorrow." His thoughts seemed to wander for a moment before snapping himself back to the present. "Dinner shall be soon, and the food has a wonderful reputation," he continued. "We are a welcoming camp, but during this tragedy there are some who won't quite be themselves today. Surely you can understand. The disappearance of a camper is a very serious matter."

"I understand," Savannah said soberly. Chiron nodded politely, then clopped away. She glanced at Amy, expecting to feel a wave of rage for the friend who had deceived her, but nothing came. In resignation, she sighed. "I didn't even have time to pack."

"We'll get your dad to send you some stuff," the satyr replied. "I'll take you to your cabin and get you a bed."

"Sounds real good," Savannah said, yawning hugely. When a bed was found for her she collapsed on it, confident that she would wake up the next morning back home in Georgia, and her dad would knock on her door and ask if she wanted maple or peach syrup for Sunday breakfast.


End file.
